


"shouldn't you be with her?"

by realmsoffreedom



Category: Waterparks (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 03:36:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14608431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realmsoffreedom/pseuds/realmsoffreedom
Summary: "Youleftme!""Geoff-""You got a girlfriend and I didn't matter anymore!"Or, Awsten forgets something really important.





	"shouldn't you be with her?"

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a quick oneshot but somehow 3.1k later i ended up with this pain. i wanted to make it its own separate fic instead of adding it to the prompt series, so...here goes lmao
> 
> trigger warnings - anxiety, depression, mentions of suicidal thoughts, and self-harm

15\. “shouldn’t you be with him/her?”

“Hey, I know it’s my turn to do laundry, but Ci got off early and asked if we could go get food…”

He bites into his lip as Awsten says the words, doesn’t move his gaze from the TV and keeps pressing buttons on the controller in his hands. He tilts it to the side to make the little Mario on the screen veer left to avoid a falling boulder. “Can’t you put the clothes in now? I’ll get them later.”

“I said I’d leave right now.” He doesn’t have to look up to know the smile on Awsten’s face. The sheepish, half guilty but not really, ‘I wanna hang out with my girlfriend and don’t give a shit anything else’ smile. “Sorry, Gee. I promise I’ll do it the next two times to make up for it!” 

There’s a lot of rustling and he hears Awsten swear as something crashes to the floor. A door opens and shuts, and then the front door creaks open. Awsten leaves with a hurried ‘love you!’. The door swings shut loudly behind him.

Geoff blinks up at the screen, feels liquid drip off his lashes and settle on his cheeks. He forces down a swallow and looks at the little map off to the right, his blinking icon with all the other characters eons ahead. As if that weren’t enough, the little 12 in the corner says it all. He takes a heavy breath in, squeezes his eyes shut and keeps them closed for a few seconds, focuses on just inhaling and exhaling. 

This isn’t a new development. This has been happening for days, weeks, even. Awsten cancels plans or slacks on his chores or even _forgets to pick him up from work_ because he’s off spending more and more time with _her_. 

He remembers that day.

His car was in the shop because it’d broken down the day before. He asked Awsten to be there at 5:30, texted him twice during the day to remind him about it. And Awsten texted back with eye-roll emojis, wondering why he had so much little faith in him. 

And then the clock on his phone flipped to 6:00 and he was still standing outside the building, rain pouring down on his shoulders and his fringe plastered to his face, listening to Awsten’s answering machine for probably the tenth time in twenty minutes. 

This isn’t a new development.

This isn’t a new development.

This isn’t new.

The ache has been splattered behind his eyes since he woke up this morning. It’s felt heavy, all day. There’s this sort of weightedness that’s pressing down on his shoulders, pressing the sky further into them. No matter how much he protests and cries and screams at the pain receptors in his nerves going haywire, it only gets worse. 

This day is always hard. It hasn’t gotten easier. It feels like he’s moving through the process in molasses, like he’s fighting and pushing and struggling against the thick wave of mush that just keeps trying to swallow him. It’s trying to engulf him whole. It’s molasses and it’s quicksand. It’s lethal and he’s defenseless. 

It’s too powerful and he is tired of fighting.

He goes through this every year, has this fight with himself almost exactly, remembers the conversation in his head almost verbatim. One side is ready to move on but the other doesn’t want to forget. One side is bounding toward the future but the other keeps getting pulled down by the past. One side is trying to wade through the molasses but the other keeps getting sucked back into the quicksand. 

This year has been particularly difficult.

He doesn’t know why.

He doesn’t know why getting out of bed every morning has felt Herculean, why he’s been living in a haze that’s surpassed enveloping his body and has absorbed itself into his skin, wrapped around his bones and squeezed, left him awaking the next morning sore and somber and sapped of everything.

It feels like he has nothing left, like the mist has gone from simple smoke to a heavy fog that squeezes his bones and fills his head and sinks its talons into his shoulders. He wakes up to the ache, feels the throb in his muscles, pushes up to rest on his elbows and lets his head fall back and waits there, feels the new layers of pain hit the wall of his skull, wonders, whether it’s even worth moving anymore.

It used to be.

Days like this used to be few and far between. He used to know what to do, how to handle it, used to know that waking up on this kind of morning meant forcing himself out of his bed only to crawl into another, wrap his arms around a waist and press nose to shoulder, exhale a heavy breath that almost always contained tears, feel the life move underneath him and come up to curl around his body in an abyss of warmth.

They stayed like that.

With hugs and cuddles and forehead kisses, he stayed there, breathing out into heated skin and resting his face against a tank-top clad chest, letting tears fall as quickly as thumbs pressed into his cheeks to wipe them away.

And days that started like this almost never ended like this.

He knows exactly when it all changed.

He knows when reality started setting in, when these days – the heavy, days, as they nicknamed them – started increasing and pronouncing in their ardor. He knows when her presence became a fixture and his didn’t last. He knows day after day, night after night, the bugs crawling behind his skull and sinking their stingers into the bone, the pieces falling down into his chest cavity, the pain manifesting itself into streaks down his cheeks-

But there was no one to wipe them away. 

He knows waking up in tears most nights, shifting to his elbows as they poured down his cheeks and clung to his neck, gasping for breaths in a room waning air, stumbling out of his bed and running to the other, scrabbling at the door with panic bubbling up his lips and nausea stirring in his stomach’s dips, only to eventually resign himself to the fact that the other bed was perfumed and laden with high pitched giggles, a swell of laughter that traveled across the apartment, poking at him on nights the mist had finally settled, inadvertently stirring it back up again and leaving him helpless.

He knows the gaping hole in his chest and felt it getting bigger ever time, felt the uncaring child grasp the paper tendrils holding him together and rip, _tear_ , until the pieces were falling to the ground and the rest of him was collapsing on himself and everything felt like it was fallingfallingfalling, into a hole he didn’t know existed, down a path he’d never traveled, without the one person who shined a light into every one of these dark holes.

He knows when he lost Awsten to Ciara.

…

“So then I was like, ‘are you kidding me?’ Like, did she really think she could just-”

“Shit babe, one sec.” He holds up a hand and pulls his phone out of his pocket. “I gotta take this, I’ll be right back.” He catches a glimpse of the look on her face as he slides out of the booth and makes his way toward the exit of the restaurant, sliding to accept the call as he does so. “Hey man, what’s up?”

“Just checkin’ ta see how Geoff’s doing.” Otto’s voice crackles through the speakers at first and grows increasingly stronger. He can hear a door open and shut on the other end. “I wanted to come over but I wasn’t sure if it’d be too much for him.”

“What?” He pushes off the side of the building. His heart is starting to pick up. _What was today what did you miss what are you forgetting about what’s going on shitshitshit_ \- “What the hell are you talking about?”

Otto’s tone shifts. His voice is lower and considerably firmer when he speaks next, “Awsten, where are you right now?”

“At Chipotle with Ciara?” He phrases it as a question. _What did you forget fuckfuckfuck what are you missing what did you forget what are you missing what did you forget what are you missing_ \- “Why?”

“Oh my god.” Otto blows out a heavy breath. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me right now? Do you seriously not know what today is?”

“No? What the fuck is going on?” _What did you forget what did you forget what did you forget what did you forget what did you forget_ -

“It’s the anniversary of Geoff’s mom’s death, dipshit!” Otto snaps. “He’s been-”

He hits ‘end call’ before Otto can say any more. He turns in the direction of his car and then back to the restaurant car restaurant car restaurant car restaurant GeoffGeoffGeoff-

How did he not know how did this happen how did he forget about this how did he not know how did he not know how did he not know-

Geoff’s been quiet all week. He’s never been the most verbose person in the world, but now, thinking back on it…dinners have been silent and conversation at the breakfast table is nonexistent. Somewhere along the lines they’ve morphed into two roommates splitting rent as an efficient financial decision rather than two friends who live together because they enjoy each other’s company.

He doesn’t know when it happened he doesn’t know why it did he doesn’t know anything anymore- _GeoffGeoffGeoff_ -

The next few moments feel like a blur. He doesn’t register them. He goes from the front door of Chipotle to his car and is almost completely backed out of the parking space before he remembers why he was at the restaurant in the first place, the girlfriend he has that is sitting inside, waiting for him, the girlfriend who, after all of this, is going to kill him.

And then he speeds out of the parking lot.

 _GeoffGeoffGeoff_ -

…

He breaks every traffic law on the way home.

Someone rolls down their window and starts swearing as he cuts them off, and some other lady barely misses him with her car. He speeds across the intersection just as she’s preparing to turn.

People are mad at him and maybe one of them was a cop maybe there was a camera in one of the traffic lights he ran through maybe someone saw him and reported his license plate he’s probably gonna get in so much trouble for this.

None of it matters.

_GeoffGeoffGeoff-_

_How did he forget how did he forget how the fuck did he forget_ \- 

Geoff’s mom’s death is something he’s still struggling so much with, years later. She’s been gone for a long time. He remembers being at her funeral, pressing himself against Geoff’s side and holding him, once the casket had been lowered into the ground and people started throwing handfuls of dirt on top. 

He remembers never knowing what it was like to watch a human being literally fall apart, until then.

The tires screech as he comes to a stop in the parking deck. He jumps out of the car, barely remembers to lock the doors before he’s off, running to the elevator and fumbling for his keys.

His heart is racing the world is spinning so fast his lungs are in his throat he’s going to die he’s going to puke he’s going to puke or die whichever comes first _hurry up hurry up hurry up GeoffGeoffGeoff_ -

“Geoff?” 

The TV is off. The room is quiet. Geoff’s car is in his own parking space. He _has_ to be here. Awsten’s heart is pounding so fast. He’s definitely going to puke once all this is over. He swallows thickly and jogs through the living room and down the hall. “Geoff, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to forget, I swear!”

He’s not in the kitchen. He’s not in the living room. He’s not in his room. He’s not in Awsten’s room. He’s not- _fuck_. 

“Geoff!” He cries. He reaches the bathroom door and pounds on it with his fists. “Geoff, please! Let me in! I’m sorry!”

He tries the doorknob.

It gives.

“Geoff…” He lowers himself to the floor and kneewalks over to where Geoff is sitting. “Give it to me.”

Geoff doesn’t look at him. His gaze is trained on his arm, sleeve pushed up, dots of blood welling from two open cuts. A slow stream of it is trickling down toward his elbow. There are a couple bloody tissues on the floor next to him, and he’s gripping a piece of metal tightly. The broken razor is lying a few feet away. “Go away, Awsten.” His voice is low.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he replies. His heart is racing. His hands are shaking. “And I’m not gonna sit here and watch you hurt yourself.” 

He finally gets Geoff’s eyes. They’re red, bloodshot, but dry. There are no tears on his cheeks. He’s not crying. This isn’t foreign to him. He doesn’t look like he’s in any pain. “Shouldn’t you be with _her_?”

He swallows. “No. I should be here. I _should’ve_ been here all day. I’m so sorry I wasn’t.”

His heart is constricting. Every second shoots another arrow into the muscle, pierces it in a different place, allows more blood to spill and collect at the base of his chest, a pool of reminder for him to drown in. 

He’s the worst person alive.

“It’s okay,” Geoff says. His voice is different. It sounds like he’s bordering on nonchalant but the tears are oozing out from the sides. It’s too thick to be casual. “You had plans.” 

“Yeah,” Awsten says. His heart feels like it’s collapsing. His entire body is giving way into itself. “But none of them are more important than you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Geoff,” he begs. He reaches for Geoff’s hand, bites into his lip and presses down. “Geoff, please. Tell me why you’re doing this. I wanna help you. Let me help you.”

“You _left_ me!” Geoff exclaims. His eyes are wild. At the outburst, the blood leaking from his cuts starts to pour faster. “You got a girlfriend and I didn’t matter anymore! And now, ‘cause today’s the anniversary of my mom’s death, you wanna come in here and act like you’re shit? You’re not! You left! You told me you’d always be there and you left!”

The tears start. They pour down his cheeks and drip onto his lap. Some of them mix with the blood and dilute it. He winces and reaches for some toilet paper, grabs Geoff’s fingers and pulls his arm forward. Geoff fights and resists and tries to pull out of his grip, swears at him through gritted teeth as he clamps the tissues on his wounds. “Get the fuck away from me, Awsten. I don’t need your help.”

He holds firm, keeps the pressure on his arm. “I’m sorry.” He forces his voice down, tries to mold it into something resembling calm. They’ll get nothing accomplished if he’s yelling back at Geoff. “I’m so, _so_ sorry, okay? I know I’ve been a shitty friend. You needed someone and I wasn’t there and that’s all on me. It’s my fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was a shitty friend.”

He can feel Geoff’s breathing starting to slow down a bit. He keeps talking, “truth is, I’ve been spending a lotta time with Ci ‘cause it’s been weird with us lately and I guess I just- I don’t want her ta break up with me, ya know?” His own throat is starting to close. He can feel the tears, the lump getting bigger and bigger, about to pop. “And I guess I just lost what was really important to me.”

“You don’t havta lie ta make me feel better,” Geoff mumbles. He’s crying. He’s not fighting anymore. He’s still crying, but he’s not fighting anymore. 

“Hey. Look at me.” He uses his free hand to lift Geoff’s chin and meets his eyes. “I’m not lying to you. I wouldn’t. Ciara, she’s…she’s my girlfriend. I love her, ‘course I do. She makes me happy.” She’s probably gonna break up with him after today- “But you, Geoff…you’re my best friend. You’ve been my best friend since we were six. Remember that day? I asked to borrow your pencil and you-”

“I gave it to you,” Geoff murmurs. 

“Right,” he says. He slides closer, moves his hand from Geoff’s chin to his shoulder. “And then started crying ‘cause we had a spelling test and you didn’t have a pencil and you didn’t wanna fail.”

“I was so dumb.”

“No,” he replies. “You were so _selfless_. You put everyone before you our entire lives. Like when you gave your lunch to that girl whose mom never packed her anything in fifth grade? Or when you asked the “ugly” He pauses to make air quotes with his hands because she wasn’t even ugly; thirteen-year-old boys were just stupid. “Girl in our class to the winter formal in eighth? Or when, senior year, you took me-”

“I took you to prom,” Geoff finishes. “’Cause your date bailed.”

“Yeah.” He leans forward and presses his nose against Geoff’s forehead. Tears are still streaming down his cheeks. “You put everyone before yourself. You help _anyone_ who needs it. You give everything, Geoff, and you deserve someone that’s gonna give it back to you. I’m sorry I’ve been sucking at it so much lately.”

“Aws, it’s-”

“Don’t you dare say it’s okay,” he warns. “It’s not. Your feelings are valid and you’re not gonna shove ‘em away into a little box to hurt yourself with later.”

Geoff gives a sigh against him. He swallows. “You help everyone else feel less alone. You try your hardest. Now it’s time for someone to do that for you. You don’t deserve to hurt like this, Geoff. You don’t deserve to hurt _yourself_ , like this. I really want you to remember that. You deserve all the love and happiness in the world and I wish I could give it to you and I’m sorry I’ve sucked so much-” He pauses and takes a heavy breath. “But I’m gonna be better. You deserve me being better.”

“I miss her,” Geoff says heavily. “I don’t know when I’m gonna get over it…”

“You won’t,” he promises. “It’ll get easier, but you’ll never get _over_ it. Over _her_. She’s your _mom_ , Geoff. You’ll miss her for the rest of your life.”

“That’s fine,” Geoff mumbles. “I’m okay with that. I just don’t wanna feel like dying anymore. I’m _really_ sick of wakin’ up every morning and wishing I hadn’t.”

He inhales. “That’s- that’s still happening? Geoff, why didn’t you tell me?” 

He remembers the days. If he was woken up to Geoff crawling in bed with him, he knew it was gonna be a bad day. He knew he only woke him up on days that scared him, days when breathing inconvenienced him and he knew he wouldn’t get through it without someone else there. 

“You were busy.”

 _Fuck_.

“I love you,” he chokes out. “I love you I love you I love you. I’m so sorry. I’m never too busy for you, okay? From now on, no matter what, never.”

“I just wanna stop feeling like this,” Geoff sighs. “I wanna feel better.”

“You will,” he promises. He presses his lips against the side of Geoff’s head. “I promise you will. I’ll make sure you will. It’s gonna be okay, Geoff. You’re gonna be okay.”

…

He finishes cleaning Geoff’s cuts, helps him up off the floor and to change into some more comfortable clothes, and follows him into bed. They tangle their legs together like before, like they have been since they were fourteen and trying to figure out their bodies and their hormones, when they didn’t give a shit who called them gay because they were best friends and they were happy. Geoff buries his face in his chest and Awsten wraps his arms around him, holds him as tight to his body as is physically possible, presses his nose into Geoff’s hair and breathes out. 

Geoff falls asleep quickly. His chest hurts and his body still feels like it’s collapsing on himself. He knows he’s going to lay awake tonight, contemplating exactly how the last few months have gone down and at what point his girlfriend started mattering more than the only person who’s ever been a constant in his life. 

And in the end he knows, with a weight dragging his heart down to his feet and an ache behind his eyes as bad as the pierce of a bullet, that this is where he’s meant to be.

This is always where he was meant to be.


End file.
